Page 36 of Stolen By the Enemy

I’m instantly furious at myself. I wasn’t supposed to get this close to Grazia. I have a plan to execute and being nice to her isn’t part of it.

What is she supposed to tell her brothers when they finally decide to come get her?

That I was soft and gentle with her? That she has me wrapped around her cute little fingers.

I am beyond pissed off.

I get out of bed, ignoring the way the room swims around me as I head to the living room to get the clothing I vaguely remember dropping there.

“Marco?” Grazia calls out. “Where are you?”

“Living room,” I snap at her. I steady myself against the wall for a moment, annoyed that I let myself get so drunk last night.

I look over at the couch and scowl. She had her way with me last night, there’s no other way to see it.

I let her take control and dammit, I like it. A lot.

“I really don’t…” Grazia comes to hover in the doorway. She’s naked and I want to shout at my cock to butt out of this when it leaps to life as I look at her.

“No! You stay right there,” I tell her, holding up a forestalling hand. “You’ve made enough of a fool of me already.”

“I thought…you seemed to like it,” she stammers.

She crosses her arms over her breasts, and I instantly feel bad for making her self-conscious. Then I feel angry that I feel bad.

“You thought that you could just manipulate the situation, change the damn rules? That using your pussy would help you escape this house?”

“It wasn't about manipulation. You came here, I just worked hard to make it worth the trip. Can't we just have a moment of fun without the usual chaos?”

“Until your brothers agree to this deal, there won’t be any peace for me,” I hiss at her. I yank my shirt over my head.

“I didn't mean for it to be like this. I just wanted...”

“What, Grazia? What did you want?”

She starts to say something, then snaps her mouth shut. A defiant look settles on her pretty face.

“I wanted a break from the constant tension, the fear. Is that too much to ask?”

“You don't get to decide what's too much to ask, especially when it involves messing with my head,” I spit at her.

“You're always in control, Marco. What are you talking about? Can't we have a moment where we're just... human?”

“Human? This has nothing to do with being human. It's about trust, Grazia, and right now, I feel used.”

She scoffs. “You feel used? What about me?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to see that she has a point.

If I’m being honest with myself, I know that I have been using her all along. I don’t want to examine that thought too closely though, not right now.

Digging in the drawer, I find a pair of handcuffs that I’ve used with women before. I take them over to Grazia and drag her back into the bedroom. I handcuff her arm to the headboard.

“What are you doing? Is this some sort of roleplay?”

“Shut up, Grazia. This isn’t the first time that a woman has used me like this to avoid the anger of a powerful man. I’m not interested in playing this game again.”

She looks at me in shock and confusion. Of course she doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but I’m so angry at myself that I don’t care.

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